The following account was recorded in the agent's log during your transmission: Shattered stained glass is raining down from the domed ceiling of an abandoned, baroque observatory, like it's stuck in this perpetual state of slow-motion collapse. Uh, the air's thick with the smell of smoke and burning velvet, and there's an electric charge to the air that's making my skin prickle. I can see this massive, celestial map etched into the walls, complete with cryptic annotations referencing the Kybalion's "Laws of Vibration" – and, like, the stars outside seem to be arranging themselves to match the patterns on the map.